Of All The Gods
by Layton and ForCryinOutLoud
Summary: SG-1 gets imprisoned by the Goa'uld Dua, and are slightly less than intimidated. COMPLETED


Title: Of All the Gods           

Author: ForCryinOutLoud and Layton Colt

Email: awforcryinoutloud@yahoo.ca or laytoncolt@hotmail.com 

Status: Complete

Category: Humor, Parody. 

Pairings: Nope.

Spoilers: These are tricky headers, but I'm going to have to go with nope again.

Season: Why are there so many of these things? I don't know what season it is. Sometime between season one and season seven--in which Daniel is a member of the team. There--that should cover it.

Sequel: That's too scary to contemplate.  

Rating: G

Content Warnings: Gorgeous man going commando. Nudity. Whistling and ogling at said nudity.  

Summary: SG-1 gets imprisoned by the Goa'uld Dua, and are slightly less than intimidated.

Author's Notes (Layton's): This is a story I started a long time ago and could never finish. So I did what anyone would do. I begged, pleaded, and blackmailed FCOL into finishing it for me. And she did a wonderful job. 

Author's Notes (ForCryinOutLoud's): After begging and pleading for Layton to finish this fic, I finally fell for the blackmail and agreed to write the next part. I'm sure she could have done an absolutely wonderful job (as usual) on her own, but I had tons of fun writing this. Only Layton could come up with this plot bunny. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: We don't own the characters of Stargate: SG-1. And they thank god for that every day._  
_______________________________________________________

**toi·****let·ry**   

_n._ _pl._ **toi·let·ries**

An article, such as toothpaste or a hairbrush, used in personal grooming or dressing.****

**toiletry**

n : an artifact used in making your toilet [syn: toilet article, toiletries] ________________________________________________________

"Well this is just great," Jack snapped. He wrapped his hands around the bars that were keeping him and his team locked away. "Hey!" he shouted. 

The lone Jaffa guard stared back unflinchingly. 

"He will not respond to you, O'Neill," Teal'c told him. 

"Jack, there's nothing we can do at the moment," Daniel put in. 

"There's always something we can do. Does anyone have any duct tape? I could--" 

Daniel looked at him in complete disbelief. "Duct tape, Jack, is not going to help us. If we could just talk to this Goa'uld--"

"That won't do anything, either, Daniel," Sam broke in. "The Goa'uld never listen to reason, you know that." 

"Damn right they don't," Jack said. "But I have a few things I'd like to say to him anyway." 

"Teal'c, have you ever heard of this Goa'uld? Do you recognize the sign worn by the Jaffa?" Daniel asked.

"I do not," Teal'c said. "He must be a minor Goa'uld, perhaps just accumulating power." 

"An up-start, huh?" Jack asked. "Just great. A snake with something to prove. That's the last thing we need."

"My prisoners!" a voice shouted. "I shall see you now!"

Jack looked out the cell door. A man was striding towards them, flickering torch lights alternately lighting him and throwing him into shadows. He wore a black cape, long and billowing, thrown out behind him as he walked closer. 

He smiled widely as he came to stand before him. Jack was instantly reminded of the oily grin flashed to him by a cars salesman, right as he signed the check for his new truck. 

"Welcome to my abode!" he said gregariously. "I hope your accommodations are not too sparing, I had little time to prepare for your stay." 

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything . . ." Jack said, flashing a grin of his own. "But your accommodations suck." 

"Jack," Daniel said witheringly. "We're peaceful explorers, we came here in the search of allies. We didn't mean to intrude." 

The look Jack cast towards Daniel was disbelieving. "Intrude?" he mouthed. 

"Not at all," the man said. "It is most lonely here. Jaffa do not make for good company." He looked then towards Teal'c. "No offense intended, of course."

Teal'c inclined his head. "None taken. I dislike the company of the Goa'uld, as well." 

"Who are you?" Daniel asked. "I don't believe I have heard of you." 

The man looked offended. "Why I am the great god Dua," he said.

Daniel's eyes widened. "Dua?" he repeated. "The _Egyptian_ god Dua?"

"Naturally," Dua nodded. 

The blue eyes grew only wider and Jack sighed. "What? What?" he asked resignedly. "No, wait. Don't tell me. He's the worst of them all, blood-thirsty and ruthless--ate his own children."

Dua looked at him bemused. 

Daniel shook his head. "No. Not exactly."

"What then?" Jack demanded. 

Teal'c and Carter moved closer, watching Dua warily.   

"Well, very little is known about Dua," Daniel began. 

Dua smiled. "I will tell you whatever you wish to know."

Daniel's eyes lit up at the prospect but Jack tapped him impatiently on the shoulder. "You were saying?" he prompted. 

"Oh, right. Yes. Very little is known about the god Dua, next to nothing, actually--" 

"Get on with it, Daniel," Jack sighed. 

"Right. Um, Dua, he was said to be--" Daniel broke off. Shooting an assessing glance in the Goa'uld's direction. 

"Daniel?" Jack snapped. 

"He was said to be the god of toiletry, Jack."

"Daniel, this is not the time to be picking up on my bad habits. What do you really know about this guy?"

Daniel bit his lip and looked towards Dua. 

"He speaks the truth," Dua said with a nod. "I am indeed the god of toiletry." 

Jack slowly turned to face the Goa'uld. "What? Alright. Where's Makepeace? This isn't funny! God, I swear, those marines. And you," he said turning to Daniel. "How did they get you in on it?"

"Jack," Daniel whispered harshly. "This isn't a joke. The Egyptians had a god for nearly everything." 

"You can't honestly expect me to believe--" Jack began.

Teal'c cut him off. "I remember you now. You were shamed in front of all Goa'ulds, and banished to the planet Aristat." 

Dua nodded. "This is true also. Welcome to Aristat! I have very few visitors, and am greatly pleased by your unexpected visit." 

"Daniel," Jack said. "There can not be a god of toiletry."

"There is Jack. There was even Tenenit, the goddess of beer--"

"A goddess of beer? Now, you see, why not just once, could we run into her? Toiletry?" Jack shook his head. 

"I'm afraid Tenenit has drowned herself," Dua said gravely. "She wished to sleep with her beer, and filled up her sarcophagus with it--the experiment did not end well."  

"Too easy," Jack said. "This is all too easy. I can't pick an insult--there's just too many." 

"Sir," Carter said warningly. "This is still a Goa'uld, and we're still prisoners, I don't think--"

"Toiletry," Jack said back. "We're prisoners of the god of _toiletry_. What's he going to do? Mummify us alive with Charmin?"

Dua frowned, and raised his palm. "I have a ribbon device as well," he said simply.

Jack quickly grew serious, and blocked his team from Dua's reach. Cursing himself for losing sight of the danger they were in. 

"Unfortunately," Dua said, looking at the device in dismay. "It broke last winter when I was trying to heat my lunch. I'm afraid I have not as of yet been able to attain the resources to prepare it." 

"Carter," Jack said wearily. 

"Yes, sir?"

"Hammond hasn't, by chance, decided to authorize a hidden camera show off world?"

"No, sir." 

"I keep expecting someone to pop out and say surprise."

"Jack, I've said we knew very little about Dua, he could have been very powerful."

Dua beamed. "Thank you, underling. You are very kind."

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Underling?" he repeated. 

Jack patted Daniel on the back. "Calm down now, Daniel. We're peaceful explorers, remember?"

Dua seemed concerned. "I have offended you? A thousand apologies. It is meant as an honor--very few are lucky enough to be announced underlings of the god of toiletry." 

"Lucky how?" Jack asked. "It seems to me like you're an embarrassment even to your own kind. Why in the _universe_ would you choose to take on the persona of a god of _toiletry."_

Dua's eyes flashed gold. "I _am_ the god of toiletry. I did not choose." 

"Don't give me that," Jack said. "We _know_ you aren't really gods."  
"Oh," Dua said disappointedly. 

"And why did you choose the god of toiletry?" Jack asked again.

Dua gave them a look that was bordering on a pout. "All of the good gods were already taken."

"All the good..." Jack's mouth dropped and he turned back to his team. "You are seriously telling me there is no hidden camera? This...THIS is a big bad Gou'ald?"

"Jack, you know we might not wanna piss him off."

"Daniel, he is the god of _toiletry_ and he has a busted ribbon device, and...and he's the god of toiletry forcryinoutloud!"

"Perhaps, but it is you who are currently locked in my dungeon."

Jack turned back to Dua, forcing all snide remarks from his mind. The "Gou'ald" was right, the most important thing was getting his team out of this and back through the gate.

"Alright, so what's the deal? Torture? Gloating? Torture?"

"You seem fond of torture..."

"Oh yeah, favorite past time."

"Really? Most interesting. My previous prisoners never seemed fond of it."

"You don't get much sarcasm around these parts, do you?"

"I'm afraid we don't grow that here. We do however, have an abundance of curry. It makes a wonderful stew. Where are my manners? You must be famished. I will have Mut prepare a feast in my honor. You shall be my guests."

"Daniel?"

"That would be most generous of you, we are honored."

"Of course you are." With that Dua walked swiftly from the room, his cape swishing behind.

"Of course we are...Daniel?"

"Jack?"

"We are honored?!"

"Well, it seemed the right the to say. If he is planning a feast then we'll be let out of our cell...I mean...he wouldn't have them bring the food here, right?"

Jack looked at Daniel, shaking his head. Turning, he began to pace the length of the cell, muttering to himself about how if the Gou'ald was the god of toiletry, you'd think the accommodations would have been better.

"The feast is ready. You will follow me." The lone Jaffa guard spoke for the first time.

The doors were opened and the Jaffa guided SG-1 to a great dining room. There were pictographs covering the walls, Daniel almost salivating at the sight. Jack tried to ignore the fact that the pictograph on Dua's 'throne' looked suspiciously like a plunger. He was sure, any minute now, Makepeace, or Ferretti were going to jump out from behind one of the pillars yelling 'Gotcha!'

"So, DooWop, what's it going to take to get you to let us go?"

"Jack..."

"My name is Dua, and I do not know what you paid to be released from any other god that has captured you, but I can guarantee that my price will be much greater."

"Peachy."

"No, they are out of season." Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. This was unbelievable. Only SG-1 could get captured by the freaking god of toiletry.

"So what do you want?"

"What do you offer?"

"What are you looking for?"

Standing, Dua walked towards them, reaching out a hand to feel the fabric of Jack's fatigues.

"Robes have long since been out of style here and my hemline is constantly underfoot. These garments that you wear look much more convenient. Do they come in purple?"

"Uh, No, they..."

"Of course they do! Daniel here just hasn't been getting his memos. We have a wonderful variety of colors. Anything over the rainbow."

"Wonderful!

"Jack, what are you..."

"I got this one Danny, I promise, next Gou'ald interested in the USAF's fashion choices, you can try out your traveling salesmen routine."

"Sir, maybe we should..."

"Is there a problem?"

"No, not at all. My, uh...team here just want to make sure we give you the best possible deal on your purchase." Jack smiled his best car salesman smile.

"I have no desire to purchase anything." Jack's face fell.

"Here we go..." Placing a hand on Daniel's chest to stop the rest of his 'I told you so' speech, Jack looked towards Dua.

"I'm sorry, I was under the impression you were interested in our fatigues," Jack plastered yet another fake smile on his face, while fingering his fatigue shirt.

"Yes, very much so. As I said, if you wish to leave here, the price will be high." Dua walked over towards Daniel, eyeing him and his clothes.

Jack's protective instincts kicked in and he inserted himself between the leering Dua and his archeologist. "Listen Duet, Daniel here is not up for grabs."

"As I said earlier, my name is Dua, and I have no desire to grab Dr. Jackson. I believe he is my size. Remove his clothing."

"Excuse me?!!?!" Daniel sputtered.

Patting his shoulder Jack tried to calm Daniel, "Easy Dannyboy."

"I am not taking my clothes off!"

"Well you know, Danny, this might be our only way off this rock." Jack smirked.

"Oh it is indeed. Now please comply, or I shall have my Jaffa return you to your cell." Dua gestured with his hand towards the Jaffa guarding the door.

"I swear when I get back to Earth I am gaining 50 pounds." Daniel grumbled as he removed his fatigue shirt. "Well, I'm sure as hell not going through the gate naked. It's already hard enough to discourage Janet's nurses."

Sam stifled a giggle as Daniel whipped around to glare at her. "Do you mind...?" 

"Sorry, D-Daniel…I'll just, um..." Sam stepped behind Teal'c and turned her back on her teammate as he grumbled to himself. Poor Daniel, he never did get a break.

"Oh you need not worry, I shall have Mut bring a change of clothes for you at once." Dua clapped his hands and a young woman, dressed in robes entered quickly, depositing a 'small' pile of clothes at Daniel's feet. 

Daniel bent down, lifting the white, thin cloth with a long finger. "What is this?"

"It is the latest in fashion here. You will find it most comfortable, and I do believe that the shortness of the sarong allows for freedom of movement."

Daniel looked at Jack, holding up the flimsy clothing. "Jack, I cannot go back to the SGC dressed in this!" he hissed.

"Well, Daniel, if you really are dead set against it..."

"I am."

"Then I guess we'll just head back to the cell..." Daniel sighed dramatically. He knew Jack was teasing him, he had no intention of returning to that cell, but Daniel also knew they would have a hell of a fight on their hands if he didn't comply.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Quickly removing his glasses, letting the material Mut had brought him fall to the floor, he thrust his glasses towards Jack. Not opening his eyes, Daniel pulled his black t-shirt over his head. He flung it on the floor and began to pull off his boots.

Dua reached down, inspecting the clothes Daniel was shedding. He gave the young man before him an appraising look. He was very handsome. Dua's attention was soon drawn to the boots Daniel was removing. Underneath them he had more cloth that Colonel O'Neill was saying were called socks.

Daniel's hands reached for his belt, he swiftly slid it from the hooks in his fatigue pants. Off to the corner Mut stood admiring the young man stripping. No one had noticed her, and she was enjoying her view too much to worry about anything other than the beautiful stranger with tanned muscles.

Daniel's finger slipped into the top of his pants, stopping seconds from unbuttoning them. He began to turn a dark shade of red as his wild, desperate eyes sought Jack's amused chocolate ones.

"Something wrong, Danny?"

"Uh...you could say that."

Jack stepped closer to his friend, as Daniel's hand snaked out and grabbed Jack's arm in a deathlike grip. "Jack, I...I can't do this."

"C'mon, Daniel, you can have my fatigue shirt to put over what Dua has given you, you'll be fine."

"No, you don't understand."

"Of course I do, you're being bashful...but it's just us, Teal'c won't say anything, neither will I, and Carter is hiding her eyes. The quicker you get this over with the faster we get back to base and get you a change of clothes."

"That's not it...I...Jack, this morning I was…I was in a hurry and...I'm, well..."

"What? We don't have all day here, Daniel..."

"Dammit, Jack...I'm...I'm going..." He whispered hopelessly.

"You're going COMMANDO?!" Jack replied a little too loudly. Daniel closed his eyes as he heard Sam gasp. Looking abashed Jack lowered his voice. "Sorry...but...Daniel, what were you thinking?"

"Well I sure as hell wasn't thinking I'd be stripping off and giving my clothes to a damned Gou'ald, Jack!"

"OK, we can...I'll...uh, just, damn...OK, I'll hold the outfit Dua gave you up, you slip your pants off fast and I'll stand in front of you..."

"Have you seen what I'm supposed to wear? I'm not bragging Jack, but c'mon, THAT is not going to hide anything."

"That is why I am going to stand in front of you, Daniel. Don't worry, I'll make sure Doodle back there doesn't get an eye full."

Daniel sighed and unbuttoned his fatigue pants, waiting to make sure Jack was holding the material in front of him while blocking Dua and the other Jaffa's view. He slipped the pants over his hips, letting them drop to the floor. As he began to step out of them he heard another gasp and what sounded like a squeal. 

Jack cursed, Mut, the young woman, could be seen holding a hand over her mouth as she got the full view of Daniel. Daniel, who had, at the sound of the squeal, spun in the direction of the noise. He was now standing face to...uh, face with Dua's servant. 

"Oh my god!" He ripped the material from Jack's fingers, quickly covering himself. Teal'c stepped away from Sam, moving closer to block the view of Daniel from the servant girl.

Sam had heard the commotion and sensing Teal'c moving away, assumed Daniel had managed to get into his new outfit. She turned, and was greeted with the very toned backside of one Dr. Daniel Jackson. Before she knew what she was doing, Sam whistled. Daniel, still with his pants around his ankles, spun once more, this time tripping over the clothes wrapped around his feet. 

"Sam!"

Teal'c reached out a large steadying hand, stopping Daniel from landing on his face.

"Carter!"

"I'm sorry, I..." Sam turned her back, glad that her flushed face could not be seen by her team. She chastised herself as her mind began to envision Daniel flushed...head to toe in all his glory.

Daniel struggled out of his pants, and into the garb that Mut had dropped at his feet. Jack slipped his fatigue shirt off, holding it opened for Daniel. Stuffing his arms into the shirt, buttoning it as he spoke, "There, you have what you wanted. Are we free to leave?"

"There is one final payment which I require."

"OhFor...you're not getting the rest of our clothes." Daniel glared at how passionately Jack defended his, Teal'c's, and Sam's clothes while he had practically offered Daniel's to Dua.

"I require more of these garments, many more, to clothe my Jaffa. I wish one in every color...as you say, over the rainbow?"

"Oh, well, that would require us going back to Earth to arrange for them to be sent through."

"Very good...The female will stay here until you have delivered."

"Uh, no can do, Carter here is the only one that knows the secret seamstress who makes our...garments."

"I see...then Dr. Jackson will stay."

"Uh, he is the one that must convince our superiors to send the clothes. Politics you know...Daniel is a wonderful oregano."

"Orator."

"Whatever." Daniel cast Jack a withering glance. 

"The Jaffa then."

"We'll need him to measure the clothes for your other Jaffa...Teal'c here is the largest in our facility. You wouldn't want Jaffa wearing clothes that didn't fit properly."

"*Sigh* Fine, then you shall stay." Dua looked less pleased at this prospect. The Colonel's conversation skills left something to be desired...especially since Dua did not understand half of what the Colonel was talking about.

"I'd love to, but I'm the only one that has the, uh, vehicle to reach the seamstress. We all have very specialized jobs you see...I'm afraid that we're all going to have to go through the gate."

Dua considered the proposition. He was desperate for new garments. He had fallen many times wearing his robes, the last almost sent him over the ledge of his palace. Deciding his safety and having fashionably dressed Jaffa were most important he replied, "Very well, you will return in 3 hours."

"Yeahseryoubetcha!"

SG-1 walked towards the gate, Dua leading the way. He stood watching as Daniel entered the address, then the code, desperately tugging the short skirt-like outfit down. He prayed that none of his precious...bits...froze off on the return trip. As one they stepped onto the dais.

"3 hours."

Jack gave a small finger wave, with one finger in particular, as they stepped into the event horizon.

"Welcome back SG-1. Colonel, report."

"Well, Sir, we had a great time! Got kidnapped by the god of toiletry, Daniel's clothes were sacrificed, oh and we promised a rainbow of colored fatigues to a Gou'ald. All in all, a very successful mission."

General Hammond looked at his 2IC, and the rest of SG-1, especially the brightly colored, scantily clad, Dr. Jackson and shook his head. He had stopped trying to understand Colonel O'Neill's sense of humor, and the situations SG-1 could get themselves into and out of stopped surprising him years ago. 

Though he had to admit, the god of toiletry sounded like something out of one of those bad TV shows with hidden cameras. The briefing, as always, should be nothing, if not interesting. 

"Get Dr. Jackson some clothes, Colonel, debriefing at 1400hrs."

"Yes, Sir! So, Danny, how about something in purple?"

* * * *

Dua sat on his thrown, fingering the edge of his very own, official, SG-1 patch, and watching the 'gate. "How long, Mut?" he asked.

"It has been over four hours, my lord," Mut said, turning away from her god to hide a grin. 

"I don't think they're coming back." 

"No, my lord." 

"They must have lost the address." 

"Yes, my lord. I am sure they have simply dialed wrong." 

Dua pouted and slouched in his chair. "We'll give them another hour, and then we will have to go after them." 

"The Tauri world is protected, my lord." 

"Oh." 

"Perhaps you would like some curry, my lord?"

_      The End_


End file.
